


Pride

by enigmalea



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Ficlet, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21997480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmalea/pseuds/enigmalea
Summary: How Solas came to be.A lengthier drabble written for the Cullrian discord’s (Herald’s Rest) Pride event. Because I have to be difficult I wrote a non-Cullrian ficlet. ;)PROMPT:WORD CHALLENGE - include your favorite PRIDE word in a quick scene or art doodle! [I chose… obviously… Pride.]
Relationships: Abelas/Solas (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 8
Collections: Frilly Cakes: A Collection of Dragon Age Drabbles and One Shots





	Pride

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to separate out my drabbles to make them easier to find and put them in a collection instead. Sorry to anyone who gets multiple notifications about things they've already read!
> 
> * * *
> 
> **follow me for updates:** [ao3 (click subscribe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmalea/profile) ☆ [tumblr](http://enigmalea.tumblr.com) ☆ [twitter](https://twitter.com/enigmaleaDA)  
>  **prompt me:** [how to](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/post/185117840754) ☆ [submit](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/ask) ☆ [read on tumblr](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/tagged/my-drabbles) ☆ [read on ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/frillycakes)

The infant’s screams had drawn Mythal to him, and she’d found him, the only living creature in a ring of death and destruction. He had been too small to draw the attraction of whatever monsters (whether Elvhen or true monsters) had slaughtered his family. Found as he was, she could only give him one name: Abelas.  
  
He had felt the tug on his consciousness early in Abelas’ life. Mythal’s chosen, he had striven to do everything he could to earn his adoptive mother’s pride. It was difficult work. Mythal did not dote or give unnecessary affection; she did not coddle unnecessarily. And thus, to gain her attention, Abelas had to be the best. He was the brightest student, the most successful archer, the most fastidious in prayer; he excelled in strategy, championed justice, embodied compassion. His work did not go unnoticed and every day which passed caused Mythal’s satisfaction with the boy to grow.  
  
Pride could feel it tugging at his consciousness, pulling him farther from the Fade, and closer to the boy. He watched Abelas grow, the boy’s own pride making him desire to take a form to be with him. It wasn’t enough to sense his pride from afar, Pride wanted to _bask_ in it.  
  
He appeared before him the first time while the boy was sleeping, a mere wisp of power, barely enough to make himself known. In Abelas’ dreams of the future, Pride felt himself taking shape, becoming something like the man Abelas hoped he would be: intelligent and brave and loyal. He began to learn the shape of the world and what it meant to do things like _hold_ and _touch_ and _feel_. He began to know what it was to have a form.  
  
Pride felt the final tug into reality much sooner than he expected, and it hurt, felt like chewing on glass, though he wasn’t sure how he knew that. Everything was too bright, too sharp, too _real_. He inhaled deeply and his nostrils burned. Abelas was 18 years old, and tomorrow, he was taking the mark of his Mistress, to join the ranks of her elite guard, the high priests of her service. It was the culmination of all of his work, and for that, Abelas could not be prouder.  
  
The whimper which left Pride was undignified and unintended, and it drew Abelas’ attention away from the waterfall which he was enjoying in solitude. He spun on his heel to face the source of the noise, surprised to find himself face to face with another young man. He was taller than Abelas, with long, dark auburn hair, and grey eyes. He was doubled over in pain. Abelas hesitated to go to him; although he enjoyed spending time in this place, the hart statues here were intended to honor June, and at the moment, his Mistress and June were not on fantastic terms with one another.  
  
“Who are you?” he asked, eyes narrowing critically, as his hand fell to the hilt of the sword at his side.  
  
Pride whimpered again, trying to force his mind to force his lips and tongue to make sound that the young man who unintentionally called him into being would understand. He forced his eyes to the man’s face, and their eyes met. Pride forced himself to a half-standing position and he felt the other man’s eyes sweep over him. His hand dropped from the hilt of his sword as he realized Pride was unarmed. Manifesting clothing had been difficult enough, Pride could not manage weapons. “You are Abelas, and I am Solas.”  
  
The shape of the sound was unfamiliar and weak. Abelas narrowed his eyes at Solas but took a step closer. “How do you know me? Where did you come from?”  
  
“From the Beyond,” he answered softly. Abelas took another step and Solas mirrored his action. “You made me real. Your pride and hope and ambition called me into form. I’m here for you. I’ve been with you since the beginning.”  
  
“I don’t understand,” Abelas whispered, but he couldn’t seem to force himself to stop getting closer. Solas stood fully, their eyes meeting across the inches. His hand tentatively reached out to cup the other man’s cheek, reveling in the sensation of soft skin beneath his brand-new fingertips.  
  
“Not yet, but you will,” Solas answered. Abelas leaned into his touch, and Solas felt the smallest tug of his lips upward. He leaned forward, pressed his lips against the other man’s softly. Abelas froze, hesitating just a bit before returning the kiss. Solas pulled away reluctantly, leaned his forehead against Abelas’ and sighed softly. “I’ve wanted to do that since you first dreamt of kissing.”  
  
Abelas flushed and reached out to take Solas’ hand. “You’re a Spirit, made flesh, then?” he asked after a moment. “You… you gave up your nature… for me?” Solas nodded, surprised that Abelas had understood immediately what was happening, though he really shouldn’t have been. “I think I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”  
  
“We’re together now, at long last, vhenan, and may we never have to part.”


End file.
